


The Emerald of Mor Ardain

by burstaffinity



Category: Final Fantasy XV, Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29273367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burstaffinity/pseuds/burstaffinity
Summary: The story of "The First Flesh Eater".
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	The Emerald of Mor Ardain

He was called “The First Flesh Eater”. Experiments with the fusion of human and blade cells had been happening long before his story began, but he was the one who made becoming a flesh eater illegal: a vile, selfish murderer who had killed his driver and consumed his flesh in a bid of power.

He had another name, once: the Emerald of Mor Ardain, along with his “sister”, the Amethyst, twin fire blades of considerable power passed down among the imperial family. Unlike his sister, the Emerald was a healer very few could resonate with. Imperial family members who could were said to be truly special individuals, highly favored for succession regardless of tradition. The Emerald’s last driver, an imperial heir named Noctis, would have succeeded to the throne regardless, but his ability to resonate with the Emerald made him the subject of scrutiny and hope -- attention the shy heir scorned.

It was said that the Emerald and heir Noctis were closer than most blades and drivers. Thus, news of Noctis’s murder at the hands of the Emerald came as a great shock. How could a blade kill his beloved driver? For power, of course: a blade infused with human cells could awaken to strange, powerful abilities. Lust for such power would overwhelm even a blade, and heir Noctis had, foolishly, treated the Emerald as an equal. Blades were not friends, family, or lovers; they were simply tools for their drivers. To treat them as other than such would be to invite their violence, their arrogance that they could surpass their masters. Foolish Noctis learned this lesson the hard way.

The Praetorium responded to this tragedy swiftly, announcing that they would hunt and capture all flesh eaters. No driver should have to live in fear that their blade would consume them for power, and no blade should ever believe they were superior to their master. Such was the story of “The First Flesh Eater”.

Such was the story the Praetorium told the public.

* * *

“So? Are the rumors true?”

Akhos stood curiously over his new comrade, who sat on the floor of a corridor of no importance.

“Mor Ardain isn’t known for having excellent cuisine,” Akhos said. “Your cooking must have been remarkable for that to have been part of your legacy.”

The man did not respond.

Akhos continued, “We have an excellent cook ourselves, but we shouldn’t have to rely on him to do all the cooking.”

Still, the man did not respond.

“What I’m saying is, are you going to make yourself useful to us, or will you continue to take up space?”

“Leave him alone.”

Akhos looked up in surprise. He hadn’t noticed Jin’s approach. His attempts to form a rebuttal were waved off by his leader.

“Go help Mikhail in the kitchen,” Jin said.

“...very well,” Akhos replied, giving the man one last disdainful look before leaving.

“I apologize for Akhos’s rudeness,” Jin said, moving to stand against the wall across from where the man sat. “Understandably, he wants what is best for our organization. But you’re new here. It will take you some time to adjust.”

The man did not respond. Jin did not appear perturbed.

“That being said, our next mission will be soon,” Jin continued. “Will you be adjusted in time to--”

“I will be ready,” the man responded, not looking up from where he stared. Jin could see the man’s core crystal from where he stood. It was similar in shape to Brighid’s, of course, but the color -- the color was blood red, just like Jin’s core crystal.

Inside that blade’s body beat a human heart.

* * *

A blade in strong resonance with their driver could sense their driver’s emotions even outside of battle. Ignis could sense that his driver was in distress despite his attempts to maintain composure throughout this briefing. Even if his bond with Noctis wasn’t so strong, well. Noctis wasn’t good at hiding his emotions when they ran this hot. He was staring at the table before him rather than his father. Beneath the table, his fists were clenched. Ignis understood why without having to ask: Noctis despised Mor Ardain’s imperial ambitions.

The Emperor knew this, too; that was why he never sought out Noctis’s opinion throughout the briefing. Noctis was simply to sit and listen as his father explained their current Gormott strategy, as well as the progress of their other provinces, one of which Noctis was set to visit in an attempt to foster good will among its populace. Ignis could already imagine the contents of Noctis’s rant once they returned to his quarters.

Except, Noctis said nothing once they returned to his room. He simply paced the floor before taking a seat on his bed. Ignis quietly sat next to him. He could tell Noctis was deep in thought, but as to the contents of such thoughts… not even a blade as powerful as he was a mind reader.

“Say, Iggy,” Noctis said softly, breaking the silence.

Ignis turned to face Noctis, placing his arm around his driver’s back as he did so. “Yes, Your Highness?”

Noctis chuckled softly. “You do that then call me ‘Your Highness’.” He shook his head, giving Ignis a soft kiss on the lips. “Do you… Do you know anything about the province we’re going to? Is there anything in your journal?”

“I’d have to check,” Ignis replied, “but off the top of my head, no. It was likely annexed during a period where I was dormant. Shall I ask Brighid or Aegaeon?”

“No,” Noctis said quickly. “I don’t want them to know. I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Know what?”

“Is there a way… to hide in that province? From the Empire?”

Ignis furrowed his brow. “What are you asking, Noct?”

“I’m asking… I’m asking you to run away with me.”

* * *

As always, it was Malos who faced Jin as he awoke from the treatment pod.

“Feeling better?” the Aegis asked.

Jin grunted in response.

“How’s the new guy doing?”

“Keeping to himself,” Jin said. “Akhos tried to get him to cook.”

Malos snorted. “What, he’s not satisfied with your cooking?”

“He was trying to get Ignis to help around more.”

“Good luck with that,” Malos retorted. “That guy’s more antisocial than you are.”

“He actually reminds me of you.”

Malos fell silent, the usual derisive mirth on his face melting into something more contemplative. “In what way?” he asked. “Isn’t his backstory the same sob story as yours? But the Praetorium made it public, said it’s the reason flesh eaters are outlawed and hunted.”

“The Praetorium’s story is false. He didn’t kill his driver for power. His driver was killed… by the Praetorium. In that way his story is similar to my own. But his lust for destruction…”

Malos looked away, to the floor between them. “In a way, I envy that man. At least he knows what he’s fighting for and why.”

“Don’t you know what you’re fighting for?”

Malos turned away from Jin. After a moment, he replied, “Not for any precious driver, that’s for damn sure.”

* * *

Noctis’s hand in his own was damp with sweat. They stole through the night, careful to avoid the wildlife, proceeding to the ship that had promised them a quiet departure from the titan. They had brought them very few possessions: only what Noctis could fit in his pouch and the clothes on their backs. Noctis didn’t have a plan for what they would do once they were on the ship, where they would go, but Ignis could sense, through their shared tension, the growing hope within Noctis’s heart.

They had found a way to escape. They had found a route to freedom. Once they boarded that ship they would no longer be the Empire’s star driver and blade. No, they could be more than that...

Ignis had to stop Noctis from bolting towards the ship once it was within view. “We still might be seen,” Ignis whispered. Noctis squirmed. Ignis was right, of course, but -- he was impatient. Ignis could sense it.

The slow, stealthy stretch to the ship felt like an eternity. Ignis tried to keep his fear in check, knowing that his emotions would affect Noctis in turn. Noctis himself was trying -- and failing -- to keep his emotions in line for Ignis’s sake. “We’re almost there,” Ignis said, doing little to soothe either of them or shorten the length of the perceived eternity. But once they were at the edge of the docs, Noctis could not stop himself from breaking into a full run, dragging Ignis with him to the ship and its captain who had promised them a safe journey.

“Have you brought any possessions with you?” the captain asked.

“No,” Noctis responded breathlessly, “just what we have. When do we depart?”

“As soon as you’re ready.”

“We’re ready now.”

Ignis felt a wide smile form on his lips as he was pulled inside the ship, a smile as wide as the one on Noctis’s face, beaming bright like the stars in the sky. Their future together… It was no longer a dream, a possibility discreetly discussed. It was happening now. It was coming true now.

“So? What’s our first course of action once we’re… wherever we are going?” Ignis asked.

Noctis shrugged. “I dunno. Let’s just be happy for a while!”

“And then after that?”

Noctis playfully tilted his head in thought. “After that… after that, who knows?” He smiled the same warm smile he had given Ignis when they first met. Ignis pulled him close, one hand wrapped around his driver’s back, the other caressing his cheek.

“Noct, I…”

Noctis pressed his lips against Ignis’s. He knew what Ignis was going to say. He felt it, too.

He felt it as sharply as the knife that cut through his back.

Ignis was no stranger to his driver’s pain. Capable though he was of awakening one of the Empire’s strongest blades, Noctis was not the most adept in battle, and as such made frequent use of his blade’s healing powers. But Ignis knew intuitively that there would come such a pain, such an injury, that not even his power could heal.

That pain was shooting all throughout Noctis’s body.

Noctis slipped through his arms, collapsing on the ground in the forming pool of his blood. Ignis stood in shock, his eyes wide open -- the eponymous “emeralds” so rarely seen, much like the amethysts of his sister.

“Do you want to remember him?”

The captain, standing over the body of his victim, spoke calmly. He did not flinch as Ignis moved to attack, stopped only by the emergence of tiny specks of light.

Noctis was dying. Ignis would soon revert to his core crystal.

“I ask again, do you want to remember him?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ignis spat out. “You killed him!”

“There is a way to stop what is happening to you,” the captain replied. “To keep your memories of your beloved. To carve his flesh within your own.”

Ignis sank to his knees, pulling Noctis up in his arms. The thought of forgetting Noctis… the _reality_ that was facing him now… He placed a hand on Noctis’s face, turning it towards him. His driver’s eyes were barely open; still, he tried to match Ignis’s gaze. “Iggy, please,” Noctis said weakly, “don’t… don’t forget me… I…”

“Why…?” He pulled Noctis closer to him, as if doing so would save him. “Why did you kill him?” he directed towards the Captain. “ _Why_?”

“Time’s almost up. Do you want to know or don’t you? I am not a simple captain; I work for the Praetorium. There are ways to keep your memories of him in tact.”

The light around him was growing stronger. Noctis’s presence was fading. Time was almost up.

“...tell me.”

* * *

Brighid’s flames felt like little more than a cool tickle against his skin. He wove around the azure tongues of her whipswords as she stood behind her driver, lending her support. The more Ignis stared at this charade of driver and blade “support”, the angrier he became.

“Are you little more than a slave?” he called out.

Brighid kept her gaze steady on her driver. “The bond between driver and blade is sacred,” she replied. “I offer my power gladly and willingly.”

“You offer because you haven’t the choice,” Ignis retorted, swinging one of his knives towards Brighid’s driver.

Brighid blocked the attack. “I offer my power because I trust my driver. I’m not a greedy killer like you.”

Ignis let out a laugh. “You still believe the Praetorium’s lie?” He aimed a low kick at her driver, an attack that Brighid did not block. Her driver was knocked off his feet. He collapsed, weary and tired from the battle. Brighid rushed by his side, creating a barrier to stave off Ignis’s attacks. But Ignis simply let his arms rest as he faced his defending sister.

“You killed your driver!” she said. “You killed him just so you could become this… _monstrosity_ …”

“Noctis was already dying. A rat from the Praetorium lied to us, placed us in a trap. He stabbed Noct and told me how to become a flesh eater, so I wouldn’t forget him. I had no other choice…”

“You _had_ a choice,” Brighid replied, rising to her feet. “You could have accepted your fate! You were a jewel of the Empire, passed down among the imperial family. You served many drivers before you resonated with your last, and you forgot every one. That is the fate of a blade. You knew this, Ignis! It was nothing but your greed that set you down this road.”

Ignis turned his face away from Brighid and towards her driver. The future Emperor of Mor Ardain, presumably. Much like his beloved Noctis. This heir… he was a fierce, capable driver. Perhaps he might even become a great Emperor.

“I loved Noct,” Ignis said softly. “I loved him more than just a driver. I loved him more than I loved anything, and any one, in this world. You, my sister… you have yet to feel what I feel. Perhaps someday you will. You’ll resonate with a driver you love more than anything, and the thought of being separated from her… will be more than you can bear. But this driver you have now... he is not that one.”

Brighid could not block his next attack. No blade was dexterous enough to stop someone from warping through the air.

Ignis’s knife drove through the heart of Brighid’s driver in an instant. She reverted to her core crystal before she had a chance to speak. Another sudden death that would go unremarked in her journal, another conversation with her “brother” that would go forgotten, while he lived on, waiting for the day she would finally understand. Why the heart of his beloved driver beat so fervently in his chest.


End file.
